


Crescent Moons

by elmstreetkid



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Gen, Lesbian Spouse AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 10:50:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5414054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elmstreetkid/pseuds/elmstreetkid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Let's swap some road stories. I'm sure you got plenty." MacCready gets more than he bargained for when he inquires about a scar he sees while helping patch up Ms. 111.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crescent Moons

**Author's Note:**

> this is using my sole survivor, Georgia, who's wife is a trans woman also fuck you bethesda for denying me the option to be gay married in the beginning of the game

Raiders. It's always fu...darn raiders. Whether or not you're in the Capital or the Commonwealth, there's always raiders. This would be easy, for MacCready, if he and his new employer, Georgia, weren't trying to clear out an old prep school. Tight corridors aren't exactly good for someone most proficient with a scope. "I'll charge in, get their attention, and while I'm dealing with the bulk of them, you can get some stragglers with this," Georgia had told him, passing a 10mm handgun from her bag to his palm. She made sure the safety on her rifle was off, and set off up the stairs. The stragglers themselves weren't hard to deal with, idiots with tire irons and switchblades trying to rush the man with a fucking gun, but even once MacCready had his business taken care of, he could still hear thumps and gunshots upstairs. 

"Hey, boss? You need any help up there?" 

There was another thud, like a rifle slamming into something.

"I got this, MacCready. I'll be done in a min... ah! Son of a bitch!" There was another gunshot and a collection of groans. 

"Boss? Georgia? Hey, tell me you're alright!" 

Footsteps were a good sign. The blood over Georgia's gut? Not so much. 

"MacCready, help me... help me patch this up, would you?" It was all she could get out before she fell over on the floor. 

"Sh...Crap! Oh crap!"

Blood had pooled from under the spot she clutched, between her fingers and soaking the green button-up she wore underneath her metal armor. The chestpiece was the first to go, before MacCready pushed the sticky shirt up and away from her skin. What looked like a knife wound was busy leaking more and more blood from underneath her skin. No wonder she passed out, but it looked fixable. MacCready could fix this. She still had her bag on her, and he knew she kept first aid in there. A few stimpaks, a blood pack, a tube of Med-X, bandages, and a small bottle of antiseptic was what he could find, along with a needle and thread. 

"Don't worry, don't worry. I'm gonna get you fixed up, right as acid rain." 

The needle shook in his hands, God, he hoped he wouldn't f... mess this up. He threaded it, held it still while cleaning the gash with antiseptic. When the blood was cleaned away, he noticed she had another scar in the center of her abdomen. It was long and thin, faded over time, and way too clean have been done by a wasteland doctor. At least this wasn't her first time getting stitched up. 

...

The last thing Georgia remembered before waking up on a ratty mattress in the hallway of a wrecked prep school, a straw pillow under her head and MacCready's duster over her like a blanket, was the fact that she might have ruined one of her favorite shirts. There were only so many miracles Codsworth could perform. 

"Hey, good! You're awake." 

MacCready sat crossed-leg on the floor across from the mattress, stirring the contents of a cooking pot he had on a hotplate. 

"MacCready? Did you patch me up?"

He tapped the tin spoon against the pot, looking to rummage around for something in her bag. "Yeah. I mean, who else is gonna sign my paychecks if you kick it? Don't worry about it, though. I ate all your gumdrops while waiting for you to wake up so I consider us even." He pulled out the Med-X she kept for emergencies. "You want this? I figure you must be hurting something awful by now."

"Yeah, dose me." 

She sat up long enough to roll up her sleeve and watch MacCready prick her skin with the needle. Once the syringe was empty she collapsed back onto her pillow with a groan.

"Thanks. Can't wait for that to kick in."

He grunts in acknowledgement, spooning the contents of the pan into two bowls and passes one to her. "Here. You should eat. You lost a lot of blood, you know, and I don't know if that blood pack you had on hand put enough of it back." 

Mushy macaroni in a puke-yellow sauce sits in the bowl he hands her, with soft pink bits strewn in. 

"What exactly is it?" She asks, leaning onto her elbow and picking the spoon out of the bowl.

He shovels a bite into his mouth, polite enough to swallow before answering. "Mac and cheese. I mixed a can of cram in there for some protein. Figured you'd need the extra nutrients."

It doesn't taste half bad once she actually tries some, but maybe her empty stomach is swaying her opinion. There's no more words while they eat, just the sound of chewing and swallowing, and MacCready doesn't pipe back up until he's finished inhaling his meal. 

"Hey," he says while wiping his mouth with the edge of his sleeve, "mind if I ask how you got that scar?"

"What scar?"

He traces his fingertip over his belt, in the shape of a half moon. "The one around here. It's probably best we stay here until you can get on your feet, so let's swap stories. Where'd you get it?"

She sits up in her bed, props the pillow against her back and reaches for a container of purified water. "I got that after my cesarean." Her throat feels so dry all of a sudden.

"What's that, exactly?" 

"A cesarean section? A c-section? I guess that's not really common anymore. It's an operation, you know, surgery." 

"Why'd you need surgery for?"

"To deliver my baby."

MacCready sits with his chin in his hands, dumbstruck for the moment, too stunned to say anything else. Georgia takes the opportunity to explain further.

"A cesarean section is when they cut into your stomach and remove your baby. It's needed when there's something preventing you from having a traditional birth, in my case, my baby was positioned wrong. He was supposed to come out head first, but instead it looked like he would come out feet first. They called it a breech birth, and said it would be easier to give me a c-section."

MacCready's eyes were still wide. "You had a baby. You have a son."

"I did. I had a son. I had a wife."

A son. A wife. Just like him. 

"What do you mean had?" 

She closes her eyes and exhales. "I suppose I should start from the beginning, right? To start, I was born on January 23rd, 2051."

"What do you mean 2051? The bombs dropped in 2077. You don't look like a ghoul..."

"Because I'm not. On October 23rd, 2077, my family was accepted into Vault 111. My wife and I were led to what we were told were decontamination pods, but they were cryochambers instead. I only recently got thawed out."

"Holy sh...crap. Did anyone else make it out with you?" 

"No. I'm the only one who survived."

There's a pause, and she reaches up to wipe the corner of her eyes and take a breath.

"We were all thawed out, but locked in the chambers. My wife's pod was across from me. She had our son in her arms. Two people, one dressed like a merc and the other in a hazmat suit, opened her pod. They tried to take our baby, but she fought back. When she wouldn't give him up, the merc... the merc shot her. He killed my wife and took my son before putting us back in cryo. The chambers malfunctioned, and I'm the only one who got out."

She tugs on her sleeve, brings it up to her eyes and her shoulders shake.

"Oh my god... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Georgia. But what about your son? Did you find him?" 

"Not yet. I'm trying to."

She sinks back down onto her bed, rolls onto her side so MacCready can't see her face. The silence is dense and suffocating.

"Hey, your wife? What was she like?"

"Her name was Sue. Short for Susan. She was beautiful, and smart, and strong. She was in the military, and I was so proud of her. We met when I was 22, and we dated for two years before we got married. When we found out we were having a baby, having Shaun, she cried. She was so happy she cried and I knew she would be a wonderful mother. I still remember what she looked like when... on the last day. She had just got done showering, and she smelled like soap, and toothpaste, and the tea she liked to drink in the morning. I still remember all of it."

"I'm sorry. You know, I... I lost my wife, too."

"What was she like?" 

"Her name was Lucy. Short for Lucia. We knew each other as children, in Little Lamplight. She was kind, and smart, and tough. She took care of the kids smaller than us. When we left, we got married. One night, we holed up in an old train tunnel. We didn't know there would be ferals there. They tore her up before I could even fire a shot. All I could do was hold Duncan as tight as I could and run."

"MacCready... God, I'm so sorry. But, who's Duncan?"

"My son. I left him to come here. He's sick. I couldn't bring him with me."

She rolls over, and her eyes are watered and rimmed red. "Hey, MacCready, is there anything I can do? Can I find a doctor, or something?"

"I have a lead, actually. Let's talk about it later. You should probably get to sleep."

"If you say so. Night, MacCready."

"Goodnight, Georgia."

 


End file.
